So E Doesn't Equal MC Squared, Now What?
by aridnie
Summary: Liz/Jonas. One-shot. The inner-workings of Jonas's teenage boy, nerd, scientific theorist -filled mind. A drabbling in the midst of the CIA chemistry labs. Heavy doses of fluff.


**A/N**: Again, I'm looking for a beta. Someone let me know if they're interested in being subjected to my weirdness. **Warnings**: I will constantly nag and P.M. you about weird things. Like just downright strange things. You will have to review and comment on my lengthy A/N's. You will have to become my ... dare I say it? ... friend. -le gasp- But back to the matter at hand, so this story is a few things. It is a new beginning to my no Zammie writing (see beneath), it is a shout-out to the new element that can supposedly travel faster than light, and it is me fulfilling a major fluff void. Plus, who doesn't love them some Jiz?

**DISCLAIMER**: Oh, I'm sorry. Do I act and write like Ally-C? No. Do I write a best-selling series? No. Do I even do this for money? No. So what makes you think I own any of these characters? Yeah, that's what I thought. -.-

. .::.:.::. .

So E Doesn't Equal MC Squared, Now What?

There's something about sitting on top of a lab table (after being thoroughly wiped down of course, no need to burn through another pair of slacks, especially not while in the company of a very pretty girl, who seemed to actually want to be here, lab results pending on these observations) sharing a picnic basket with the girl of your dreams (again, to be determined how _she_ feels) after sending in your lab results to NASA and the Nobel Prize board of directors and disproving Einstein's theory about the construction of matter and pretty much destabilizing the Big Bang Theory. Some may call my emotions self-satisfaction and self-accomplishment, I call it love - well maybe, it's quite difficult to comprehend "love," there aren't any scientific conclusions recorded as of yet. Any true nerd and scientific theorist would consider this scenario as a life altering career improvement. Any teenage boy would consider my situation as a means of "getting some" (actually, really just Zach and Grant would consider this, but they quickly retracted their words when I threatened to tell Cammie and Bex about their not-so-eloquent feelings towards females. No doubt all of their short improvement in their relationships would have quickly diminished). But when you get a mix of those two, well, you get me, but mainly a scientific theorist who's only a teenage boy and he would consider this as the best moment of his short-lived life. Because mixing an exuberant Liz Sutton, a major scientific development, and the CIA labs kinda makes a day from heaven for Jonas Anderson.

"Want some more lemonade, Jonas?" A thick southern accent enveloped my ears and derailed my thoughts. I turned back to Liz, who was smiling angelically towards me.

"Oh, of course!" I returned my attention to her story, something about Bex, Cameron's Aunt Abby, and a hair dryer that ran on water. After extensive research on the female psyche and simply observing and calculating certain reactions females made, I concluded that I had been laughing, smiling, and nodding at the correct intervals, and she was actually enjoying my company.

Slowly but surely, the conversation turned to me and I mentally recorded her reactions to a few of my short antidotes (many of which included Zach in his early days at Blackthorne, and the extensive pain I had to endure until I had properly hacked into the CIA's reports on Cameron Ann Morgan, and the multiple "very girly" moments Grant and I had to endure during Cammie's brief stint dating Josh Abrams (whose "life status" I had checked on multiple times over recent years - Zach was sometimes serious with his threats)). She seemed to be enjoying herself, but I knew that it wasn't right to feel assured just yet. I had multiple pros to be studying from at the moment, and a sufficient lack on cons she'd been throwing my way, but obviously we had just disproved that despite lack of disproving evidence, didn't mean that something still wasn't true, and I didn't think I was quite ready for rejection.

I was disrupted from my musings by a small gasp, "Oh no! Is that the time?" Liz was looking at her wrist watch with alarm, and eventually her gaze returned to me, and I saw her eyes wide and panicked.

"We have to get a move on if we want to get back to Virginia in the next hour," she rushed it out in a rush of words. I didn't exactly understand her fear, Roseville was only 25 minutes away from the labs which were somewhere underground in downtown D.C.

"What are you talking about Liz? We still have half and hour -" She cut me off.

"Obviously you've been in Maine for too long, D.C. traffic is abysmal, and it could take hours if we leave any later than this." I suddenly understood what she was talking about when I did my mental calculations on the working population compared to the available routes home.

"We have to leave now!" Liz just laughed at my sudden outburst of comprehension, and I had no available means (also known as, I was still trying to create a solution in the Blackthorne labs) to cover up my embarrassment.

However, for a girl who was well-known for being clumsy, she had somehow managed to clean up our improvised picnic and grab my hand (not blushing at this was exceedingly hard), rushing towards the doors. I had barely managed to grab our bags on the way out.

As we loaded ourselves onto the elevator, I managed to ramble on about the state of being in a state that didn't let me practice my statistics at the ready unless it was calculating a moose and a deer's likelihood for a Romeo-and-Juliet-like romance - Liz looked at me very strangely at this, and I didn't even know how I was supposed to explain _that_ adventure (it had somehow started with Zach, and as most of my stories did, included some new information involving Cammie). She pressed the entrance floor, and we rose as quickly as her laughs were coming out, and I was slightly complacent with my hope that my woes of unrequited love may not actually be as set in stone as I had believed.

The elevator made a sharp "dinging" noise as I shot out a punch line to a joke Grant had taught me (and had been confirmed after many tests was _not_ derogatory towards women). Our heels snapped against the titanium floors and Liz looked over at me, I thought I detected a trace of fluttering of her eyelashes, but I believed it to be a trick of the light. Her southern drawl rang out in the almost empty reception floor.

"I had such a great time today." My eyebrows piqued up, and she smiled at my blatant reaction.

"I did too, Liz." And then she seemed to create a whole new expression on her own, she was smiling slyly and shyly all at the same time, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. I could only think of one thing though, _had __Macey __been __giving __her __honey-potting __lessons? __Because __oh-my-Goodeness __(ZACH! __GET __YOUR __PUNS __OUT __OF __MY __HEAD!) __I __would __tell __her __my __life __history __and __die __trying __to __infiltrate __the __Russians __if __she __just __kept __doing __that._

"Do you have any plans for our next Town Day?" And the last thing I was thinking about was the Russians now.

"Umm ... no." _Way __to __be __smooth, __Jonas_. Shut up, Zach.

"Oh. Well I heard Anna would like to be asked, you know. If you're interested." I watched her face completely fall. And then, I understood.

Just like my failings at understanding traffic in Washington, I was most definitely over-thinking and failing at girl language.

"I'm not, actually." She shot a look towards me of deepest loathing, because now I had not only insulted her, I had insulted her sister. "I mean, she's really nice. But there's someone else I want to ask." Her eyes snapped to mine, and I smiled softly. We had reached the reception desk, and placed our _Visitor_ tags on the desk next to the receptionist. She briefly glanced at us, and continues typing on her computer, like her fingers couldn't part from the keyboard if her life depended on it (it probably did).

"Liz, would you go with me to town?" Her face flushed, and her eyes seemed just as bright as they had when we had finally finished the last line of our conclusion.

"Do neutrinos travel faster than the speed of light?" Her voice was slightly raised, but her tone suggested a deep sense of happiness.

"Yes, of course." She smirked. And oh-dear-God. Has Zach been giving her lessons too? How did Cammie resist him if he was always _smirking_? It had to be her kryptonite? And why on Earth was I still thinking about Zach Goode _smirking_?

"Then that's your answer."

. .::.:.::. .

**A/N**: That was fun. That also wasn't going to be a fic for a very long time. But it happens to be my favourite out of all the poll choices (which everyone should still go and vote on, BTW), and I don't care very much that it was third to last. It happened to be my utmost favourite prompt, despite my lack of ability to know how to end it. Which by the way leads me to one thing ... well two actually. My poll is still open, I still want reviews or PMs with story ideas. And I'm still in need of a really great beta or two. My offer from February 2009 (see profile, please. It had a lot of info) and June 2010 (see profile, again) still stands. I want to know what you want. But I do have an announcement, aside from people personally asking me for stories, I will not write Zammie any longer (HereComesGoodbye was the last Zammie piece for a really long time). If people want Zammie from me, they have to review and request or give me an abbreviation/nickname for [insert abbreviation here]. I will probably write the winner of my poll (which was a Zammie, but that's it. Now more exciting things, I dedicate this one-shot to **Whoosh** (anon) and **GallagherGirl29**. **Whoosh** (anon) was my first reviewer after coming back to this world. Her review was amazing and kind in a terribly snarky way. She is the light of my world right now. I ought to have her review framed. So here's to her. **GallagherGirl29** gets a special shout-out too, because she alerted the story ... even though it is _only_a one-shot. And also, shame on the 250+ visitors and 290+ hits that HereComesGoodbye got, and the lack of reviews (3, only three) it has.

I have a theory. And I want to test that theory. And you are all my lab rats. Mwahahah- except it's not evil so no evil laugh -mutters disapprovingly- Here's the theory, only authors or writers of stories actually read author's notes. And more on that note, only authors who right author's notes actually spend time to read other author's author's notes. Wow, that was a mouthful. So yeah, leave me a comment so I can tally all the votes and see whether or not this is true. As in people who have read this, tell me if you read author's notes (which will mean that you actually do, since you're giving me a review) and whether you're an author who writes A/N's, a normal author who doesn't put things in their A/N's, or just a commonly reader who isn't actually all the commonly and I owe my life to you on this site. - That was garblish. Just, please review.

As always, I heart you.

xx


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